


'S for you

by dreamscreateall



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean/Cas as in best friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1674854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamscreateall/pseuds/dreamscreateall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a witch hunt goes sour, Team Free Will pays the price, but not in any forseen way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'S for you

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by http://onapalehorse.co.vu/post/86540852301?utm_medium=email&utm_source=html&utm_campaign=post_photo.
> 
> I don't own anything, not even the idea! Just thought I'd run with it and see how far I'd get. Enjoy, please leave feedback!  
> (WIP)

Sam ran around the corner, trying to cut off the witch so she'd double back, where Dean was waiting with the spell. Breathing hard, feet pounding the pavement, he skids to a stop. The witch is hurtling around the corner, looking behind her. 

"Hey!" Sam yells, getting her attention. She whips her head around, zeroing in on the sound. Eyes widening in realization, she stumbles a bit as she starts back in the direction she came. Sam closes his eyes, just for a moment, to focus his thoughts. 

 _'Cas, she's coming your guys' way. Get ready,'_ He prays. Then, he sprints forward, making sure to get close enough that he can stop her if she tries to make a run for it. Damn witches, always so goddamn tricky. He shakes his head, telling himself to focus. No need to get hurt or killed just because his mind is wandering. Huffing (damn he's out of shape), he makes it around the side of the building. Seeing that the witch is still marathon-ing it directly towards Dean, he picks up his speed.

"Dean!" he yells in warning. He sees Dean step out of the shadows, translated papers in hand. It had been a bitch trying to find the _exact_ spell needed to kill this broad. Apparently, when you're a witch that's been around for about 600 years, the average spell won't do much but tickle. Sam skids to a stop, about 100 feet from the witch and his brother. He glances down at the sigil and spell ingredients on the floor, checking to make sure that nothing was smudged or ruined. Seeing everything in place, Sam nods at his brother, who starts to read the Latin spell. The witch starts to shake a bit, looking absolutely terrified. Dean reads louder as the building starts to shake. This damn witch, trying to avoid dying, is now waving her hands around and screaming in a language that Sam cannot recognize, especially from here. He sees Dean look a bit wary, but just reads louder. The witch hits the floor, on her knees. 


End file.
